Eryn

Background

Eryn Silverbough’s life began in the heart of the Virellen tribe, a nomadic elven people who roamed the forests in harmony with the land. The Virellen lived by a strict moral code that upheld honesty, communal duty, and reverence for their ancestors. But from a young age, Eryn’s quick wit and silver tongue marked her as... different.

While others in her tribe found satisfaction in their harmonious ways, immersing themselves in ceremonial rites or going over the ancient texts, she sought the thrill and freedom. As such, she discovered early on that her words, just as other tools, could be used to get her the things she wanted. Bartering for the choicest cuts of venison or pacify an angry merchant her tribe had unintentionally wronged. Her actions, while resourceful, often skirted—or outright flouted—the tribe’s rules, drawing the ire of her elders.

To appease them, Eryn did learn some ways of providing for the tribe that didn't involve getting herself in trouble (usually): the communal hearth.

Here, she learned to prepare meals that could bring smiles even after the hardest days of travel. It was in the chaotic mix of spices, the artistry of presentation, and the satisfaction of seeing others enjoy her food that Eryn found some of the thrill and freedom she so desperately wanted.

Still, her penchant for pushing boundaries—and testing her own charm—put her at odds with her people and, in particular, the elders.

The tipping point came during her sixteenth year, when a traveling merchant caravan crossed the tribe's path. Eryn, enchanted by their worldly stories and exotic wares, couldn't resist the temptation to pocket a dazzling moonstone necklace. She would have gotten away clean had she not decided to flaunt her newfound treasure during a tribal festival. Disgraced and reprimanded, she was given a stark choice: commit to the tribe's ways or leave to carve her own path. Feeling betrayed but also exhilarated by the prospect of freedom, she chose exile.

The renowned culinary school of Mageirikós, nestled in the heart of a city famed for its rich cuisines, was her now dream. For Eryn, joining the school wasn’t just about culinary greatness; it was about proving she belonged somewhere, crafting a legacy with her own two hands, proving she was right, and they weren't. And if she had to face dragons, ghosts, or worse to do it, so be it.

Leaving the School

Even though she made an explosive entrance into the school and quickly gained much acclaim her stay there would turn out shorter than most. The breaking point came when Eryn was cooking for a grand feast held in a wealthy merchant’s estate. The hall were filled with opulence: shimmering chandeliers, tables overflowing with exotic dishes, and laughter that echoed like music. At first, Eryn was dazzled by the spectacle—this was what she had dreamed of, wasn’t it? A celebration of food, culture, and joy.

But then she noticed the kitchen staff, pale and exhausted, barely able to stand as they prepared yet another course. The scraps discarded from plates could have fed entire families in the slums outside the estate walls. And when she overheard the merchant boast about how he had "acquired" some rare spices by forcing a small farming village to sell their harvest at a pittance, something inside her broke.

What truly struck her wasn’t just the waste or cruelty, but how blind the revelers were to it. They weren’t malicious. Just indifferent. Their world was so removed from reality that the suffering they caused didn’t register. They toasted to the food, the culture, the artistry, while trampling on the very things they claimed to celebrate.

That night, Eryn walked away from the estate with a hollow ache in her chest. Civilization, she realized, wasn’t built on shared joy or understanding, it thrived on its blindness to its own rot. If this was what it meant to thrive in the world, blind to the suffering left in its wake, she wasn’t sure she wanted to be part of it.